Fall of Hyperion
Dan Simmons
- 3 minutes read - 508 wordsAuthor: Dan Simmons
Rating: ★★★★
Hyperion Cantos is a four book set. Hyperion gets a lot of press because of its device of a Canterbury Tales structure: tales of the main protagonists as told by themselves. As a single book that is remarkable, unusual, and stands as a testament to Dan Simmons’ skill at characterization and plot-by-indirect narration. But in its sequel Fall of Hyperion, we see why he made that choice. Having crafted beautiful sci-fi dollies with backstory and motivation and conflict, he puts them into an Armageddon doll house with a boogeyman called The Shrike.
So while the second book is more of a plot-driven sci-fi story (and, to be fair, it’s a really interesting plot), the book gets to ride on the rich characters established in Hyperion. Simmons originally wrote the first two novels as one book, and it shows. I can see the cut-and-paste operation that must have turned a single manuscript into two well-wrought books. Hyperion loads potential energy into the universe by winding the springs of the principal characters; Fall of Hyperion lets loose the sweep of history and then releases the characters whose kinetic actions can, hopefully, master events.
Lest I be misunderstood, the book isn’t a pulpy, plot-driven space serial; Conversely, Hyperion wasn’t plot-less for its focus on character, either. But there’s a difference in design that wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
In Fall of Hyperion our pilgrims make it to their destination, the Time Tombs: domain of The Shrike. Each character faces the gauntlet specific to their history with The Shrike or the tombs. Transcendence is gained; blood is spilled; time is traversed, pooled, and unwound; and betrayal simmers.
While the action on Hyperion is the culmination of the plot question of Hyperion, the meaning of their choices is exercised in the political arena of the Hegemony as led by “CEO” Meina Gladstone and as observed by Dr. Severn — an implanted consciousness housed in the grown body of the poet John Keats (yes, that Keats).
Gladstone is a consummate politician, and we’re led to believe she’s good at it as dominoes fall around her and her military staff. Severn, lacking power, authority, and respect, gets to tip toe through the explosions gently and helps the reader see the poetical side to the decline, desolation, and dereliction of empire. Gladstone and Severn are wonderful additions to our cast of characters. It’s also handy plot-wise because Severn shares a dim telepathic consciousness to one of the pilgrims.
The book lightly pays off some of the bigger mysteries: the Shrike’s function is perceived abstractly; his giant torture tree’s function is dimly limned; and the true belligerents in the battle around Hyperion are revealed.
I’m going to keep with the series, not least because my lovely wife already bought me the next volume: Endymion
Simmons built his characters in the first book as an act of faith that the second would justify them. It does. My only doubt is whether he’ll satisfy the questions of the Shrike and time travel. He’s has two books left to do it in.